


A Steward's Care

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Description Of Injury, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Satin cared for the Lord Commander, it was his duty to, but he would have done so even if it had not been so - after all Jon Snow was rather terrible at looking after himself, in Satin's opinion.
Relationships: Satin Flowers/Jon Snow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	A Steward's Care

There was something about the cold of the Wall that made it more biting than anywhere else. Perhaps it was the knowledge that they were on the edge of Westeros, the knowledge that they had been all but forgotten in the turmoil of Kings and wars, or the knowledge of what was coming for them all. Even beneath the layers of furs and leathers Satin was always cold, it was a far cry from the warmth of Oldtown and the mild winter he remembered from when he was a child, and if the Lord Commander was to be believed the true Winter had not even begun yet.

Satin was lucky in truth, the majority of his duties kept him inside where it was ever so slightly warmer. As a steward he ran all over Castle Black on errands for the Lord Commander, but it was rare that they kept him outside for long, instead he was often traipsing up to the library or the Maester’s tower, they weren’t errands that would normally be in his duties but ones he happily took on to keep the Lord Commander off his injured leg.

It didn’t stop the cold sinking into his very bones though on the short walk across the courtyard that separated the kitchens from the living quarters. The tray of food in his hands shook as he shivered, the bowls clattering against each other.

He pushed open the door to the Lord Commander’s chambers and was hit with a blast of warmth, Jon hadn’t left his office all day so the fire had not been allowed to die out. The direwolf raised his head from his paws when Satin entered, but lowered it as soon as he saw who it was. It was rather ego boosting to have the trust of a direwolf, but Satin was aware that if he ever did anything to break that trust his throat would be ripped out in an instant.

The Lord Commander limped over to a chair near to the fire when he saw Satin enter, and Satin frowned at the stiff movement and the grimace on Jon Snow’s face.

“Does your leg still hurt?” Satin asked softly, he placed the tray he held on the desk and crossed to the Lord Commander’s side.

“It’s fine.” Jon said, holding his leg with a pained expression, “Besides, you shouldn’t be worrying about me.”

Satin shook his head and smiled slightly at the stubborn man, “It is quite literally my job to worry about you. Let me have a look at that leg, Maester Aemon gave me a poultice to put on it if need be.”

Jon grumbled but let Satin push the leg of his breeches up so that he could see where Jon had been shot. The skin around the wound was red, but not inflamed, and the wound itself seemed to be healing well, it wouldn’t be too long until they were able to remove the stitches.

“Well on the bright side, there is no sign of infection.” Satin said with forced levity, “You’ve just strained yourself too much lately.”

He glanced up at the Lord Commander, Jon’s head was thrown back and his teeth were gritted in obvious pain. Satin placed a comforting hand on his other knee and smiled what he hoped was a comforting smile. 

"I’ll put some of that poultice on and then get you some willow tea, and while I’m doing that you need to eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

He would have been horrified with himself for using that tone of voice with the Lord Commander mere weeks before, but they had built a friendship since the weather had got worse and they had started sharing a bed for warmth. Since they had woken in each other’s arms more than once.

Jon pouted slightly as Satin moved to gather the poultice and Satin could not hide the fond smile that expression caused, it humanised the normally imposing Lord Commander, reminded Satin that Jon was actually a year or so younger than he was.

He smoothed the pungent paste onto the wound, as gently as he could although it did not stop Jon from flinching.

“Ow, Satin that hurts!” Jon yelped, but despite his words he kept his leg still.

“Well maybe if you listened to the Maester and rested it, it wouldn’t keep hurting?”

Jon grumbled something under his breath and looked away, sounding and appearing more a petulant child than the fearsome Lord Commander.

Without thinking Satin pressed a kiss to that furrowed brow in an attempt to smooth it.

He froze when he realised what he had done and fearful thoughts began to run through his head.

What if Jon took offense? Would he have him flogged for such an act? Would he be sent away? Sent to one of the other forts or back to the barracks where the men leered at him and he was in danger of freezing to death if he did not accept their advances?

A hand brushed against his own and he glanced down to see the Lord Commander staring up at him with those big grey eyes.

“Don’t- don’t panic.” He said softly, “Whatever thoughts are running through your head to have you looking so scared I promise I’m not going to react that way.”

Something must have shown on Satin’s face because Jon smiled up at him with a bashful, almost hopeful smile.

“And if it wasn’t some sort of mistake,” Jon continued, “I think that I might quite like another one.”

It took him a moment to understand quite what was being asked of him but when he did so a slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Satin stepped closer once more and leant down so that he could brush his lips against Jon’s with a softness and uncertainty he had not felt before. He pulled back after a few moments and found himself more surprised than he should have been by the tenderness in Jon Snow’s eyes.

“Now, Lord Commander, I’m going to fetch that tea and some water so you can wash up, and then perhaps we should have a proper talk about this.” Satin suggested.

He moved away so he was not tempted to kiss the man again as a rare smile graced the Lord Commander’s face.

“Aye, that sounds good.” “A mischievous look filled Jon’s eyes, “But in private you really should just call me Jon.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I might add more to this at some point but for now it is complete. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> If you want to chat to me about this or any of my other fics find me on tumblr @istaricelebelasse


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